The Cabin
by Aggie Escott
Summary: New story to follow on from Brady. Whumping for Spence! as if you couldn't guess! Please R&R.Thank you
1. Chapter 1

_Love—the most beautiful phenomenon in the soul-filled creation, the omnipotent magnet in the spiritual world, the source of devotion and of the most sublime virtue._

_-__Friedrich von Schiller_

The Cabin

Chapter1

"Wow! This is a totally beautiful place!" enthused Aaron, leaping out of Spencer's Volvo.

"Hmmm" said Spencer miserably.

"Come on!" Aaron opened the car door for Spencer. "This is going to be wonderful! No cells, no people, just you and me and sweet nature!" He looked around him, a huge grin on the usually impassive face. "Fishing, swimming in the lake," He swung his arms around to encompass the mountains. "Walking!"

Spencer eyed him warily, and said nothing. He got out of the car and opened the boot.

Aaron retrieved his hold all. Spencer tried to drag his case out of the boot and failed. He put it down, took a breath and grabbed the handle again. This time he managed to get it half out. He gave it a final tug, and leapt back so that it wouldn't land on his feet.

Aaron looked from his bag to Spencer's but kept his opinions to himself.

It will be interesting, he thought, to see what Spencer has brought with him!

It had been Erin Strauss's idea for them to take a break together. Since Reid had found, then lost, his brother, he had seemed distant, unhappy. It was true that on the outside, he hadn't seemed to change much, but to those who knew him, especially to Hotch, there was a deep melancholia that shadowed his whole life.

Not that that was surprising. A weaker man would have broken. But there was an inner strength to Reid, which belied his appearance. Whether it was because of what he had to cope with as a child, or something that he developed working at the BAU, Aaron couldn't decide. Reid was a very private man.

Aaron hoped that this break would help him to open up, to share his feelings with a friend.

It had taken them both months to get back to work after they had been held by Cross. Then Spencer had had that awful experience when he was kidnapped by Dowd. The visible wounds were healed, but the inner ones were still raw and bleeding.

Aaron smiled at Spencer struggling to drag his case to the cabin door. He swung his hold-all onto his back and followed.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Spencer looked round the room.

"Something's not right, Aaron. Things have been moved."

"I expect Gideon's been back up here." said Aaron. "Don't worry about it."

Spencer thought it possible, except he didn't think Gideon would have left dirty diches in the sink.

Maybe he was in a hurry. It was his cabin, after all.

But Spencer wasn't convinced. It hurt a bit to think Gideon might have come back and not come to see him. He was puzzled, but tried to push the thought away.

Aaron entered and dropped his bag on the couch. Spencer heaved his case into the middle of the room and left it there, throwing himself down on the couch next to Aaron's bag.

"Come on Spence! I can't stand this!" Aaron grinned down at him. "What's in the case?"

"Emm….Just a few bit I thought I might need."

"You going to unpack?"

"Ahhh…..I don't think so." said Spencer. He suddenly felt embarrassed. He had never been on holiday before. How on earth would he know what to bring?

Aaron tilted his head forward and raised his eyebrows.

"Oh ok!"

Spencer lay his case down and opened it. Aaron burst out laughing.

"Well I haven't read them yet!" said Spencer, trying not to get annoyed. "We've been so busy since comic-con." He closed the case quickly.

"I thought while you were fishing or whatever, I could stay in and read."

"Not a chance, Spence. You're coming with me."

Spencer pressed his lips together in resignation and sighed.

So this was what holidays were about. He'd always thought he'd missed out on something. But maybe not.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Aaron went outside to find some logs. Spencer went to the car and got the supplies they had brought with them.

Coffee, sugar, milk. That'd do for now. Just needed the fire lit so they could boil a kettle.

He looked up as Aaron came back in, arms laden with logs. He took them to the fire place, knelt down and started to light the fire.

It was strange to see Aaron not in a suit.

Spencer thought he looked good in the khaki shorts and sleeveless tee shirt.

He opened his case again. He didn't have any shorts, but he did have two pairs of identical cords.

He got some scissors out of the kitchen draw and cut the legs off.

Aaron looked up, puzzled. "What on earth are you doing, Spence?"

"I'm…erm…I'm making some shorts."

Aaron turned back to the fire so that Spencer wouldn't see he was laughing.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Soon the fire was raging, coffee was made, and Spencer had his shorts on. Actually, Spencer wasn't overly pleased with the effect. While Aaron's legs were tanned and muscular, his were skinny and white. He felt very uncomfortable, a bit exposed. He had a comic on his lap, covering his knees. He wasn't reading it, just covering his modesty with it.

Aaron had bought a book on fishing.

He had finally admitted to Spence that he'd never fished before. When he finished the first chapter, he stood and announced, "Tomorrow, we go fishing!"

"If it's all right with you, I'll watch from the shore." said Spencer. "Last year, there were 3159 boating accidents in the top ten states, resulting in 420 injuries requiring hospitalization, and 333 fatalities!"

"We go together." said Aaron. There was no room for argument.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Aaron decided that Spence was to have the bed, and Aaron was to sleep on the couch. Spencer thought he should argue about it, insist that Aaron took the bed, but the thought of a little privacy was good, and if he argued, he might end up on the couch.

He wished Aaron a good night, and dragged his case over to the bed. He had not thought to bring ant night clothes, because he didn't have any, but the thought of sleepwalking around the cabin in the middle of the night with nothing on brought on an image more terrifying than his worst nightmare.

So he got into bed in his new shorts and Aarons fishing book. When he had finished it, he lay down and went to sleep.

That night he dreamed of a giant man eating fish, pirates and boating accidents.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter2

Aaron was awoken that night by a kick in the ribs. He sat up in surprise. It was dark in the cabin, but he could see at least three people standing round him.

"Who are you?" Aaron knew as soon as he had said it that it was not a good question.

One of them bent down to Aaron's face. "What the hell are you doing in our cabin?"

Aaron tried to pull away from the foetid breath. It was then that he saw his assailant was armed.

Aaron thought quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know whose cabin it was. I came by in the car. I was tired so I stopped for a rest." He forced a little smile. "The door wasn't locked..! He went to get up. "Sorry guys. I'll go now."

He was pushed back down onto the couch.

"You alone?"

Aaron nodded.

"Go check the bedroom!"

One of the men grinned and went into where Spencer was asleep

"Hey!" he yelled. "Look what I've found."

Spencer woke with a start as someone pulled him out of bed by his hair. The man dragged him struggling into the room. "Goldilocks!"

"Alone, eh?" the one with the gun smirked. "Wanted to keep him all to yourself, did you?" He beckoned his man to bring Spencer over to him. "Hmm….I can see why. Quite a babe!" He touched Spencer's face and lips, ran his hair across his fingers. Spencer tried to push him off.

"Get his hands, will you!"

"Don't touch him!" Aaron tried to get up, but the gun was thrust into his face. "Leave him alone! He's done nothing to you!"

Spencer stood very still and closed his eyes.

"Open those pretty brown eyes for me."

Spencer opened his eyes again, huge eyes full of anxiety. He looked straight ahead, focusing on the opposite wall. He tried to move his thoughts away from what was happening, but each time he felt the hands on his body, his mind snapped back, feeling every touch.

"You are an abomination, you know that?" he smiled. "Freaks like you should be put down at birth!" He brushed his lips against Spencer's ear. "But if you were put down at birth," he whispered, "how would we have our fun today?"

Spencer tried to turn away, but the grip on his hair tightened. The man's fingers ran lightly down Spencer's smooth chest to his shorts. Spencer flinched as he ran his finger around the inside of Spencer's waist band against his pale skin. Spencer tried to pull his tummy in, away from the probing hand, his eyes wide with fear.

"Such a pretty boy." He turned to Aaron. "And you weren't going to share him. That's very selfish, you know."

"Aaron, help me." So softly, but he was heard. He grabbed Spencer hard and twisted. Spencer screamed and his hair was released.

Spencer curled up and cried and gagged and gasped for breath. Tears forced between closed lids.

"So it's not a girl after all!"

Laughing.

He turned to Aaron. "You lied to me!" He pulled him off the couch. "Nobody lies to me, you pervert."

Aaron put his hand up in front of his face. "Please…we're not …"

He kicked Aaron in the side of the head. Then two of them laid into him.

Aaron tried to protect himself, to crawl away, but the assault was too vicious. He felt his nose break and he tried to cover his face. He cried out for them to please stop but his mouth filled with blood and his words were not heard.

His cries became fewer and softer until he made no sound at all as their boots impacted with his body bruising skin and cracking bones.

He rolled onto his side, groaning.

Coughing and whimpering, Spencer crawled painfully over to Aaron.

The three men watched the entertainment.

Spencer reached out and touched him.

"Aaron, it's Spence. Can you hear me?" Aaron moaned softly and reached for Spencer's hand. Spencer took Aaron's hand in his.

"I'm here, Aaron."

He looked up at the three men.

"Why did you do that? Why did you hurt him?" Spence felt Aaron's hand squeezing his. Spencer stroked his hair.

"We don't like perverts."

"But we're not….."

Spencer let out a cry as he was jolted upright by his hair.

"I'll tie this one up." he grinned. "We can have some fun later!"

Spencer was in too much pain to resist as he was dragged back into the bedroom. He was forced to lie on his back, and he was tied to the bed. His body didn't want to be lying flat. His stomach hurt and his legs were shaking from where he had been assaulted. He wanted to draw his knees up to his chest to relieve the agony. It hurt so much to be lying flat. But he couldn't move.

He could hear them working Aaron over again.

"Leave him! Please!" Spencer cried out and struggled to free himself, the ropes cutting into his wrists, staining the rope red.

Then the awful sounds stopped.

Aaron was brought in between two men. His feet were dragging on the floor, and his

head was slumped forwards. Spencer could see blood running from his nose and mouth, his lips cut and bleeding.

"What shall we do with this one then?"

"Please!" Spencer begged. "Please don't hurt him any more."

"Just drop him there!"

They let go of Aaron, and he fell hard onto the bedroom floor. Aaron rolled onto his back. His breathing was shallow and erratic.

Spencer tried to edge closer to the side of the bed where Aaron had fallen, when he saw the gun in the man's hand.

"What do we usually do to stop people running away?"

"No please!" Spencer pulled frantically at the ropes tying him. "Please don't hurt him! Don't shoot him! Whatever you are going to do, do to me! Please! You'll kill him! No!"

He pointed his gun at Aaron and fired.

Aaron's body jerked as the bullet tore through flesh.

Spencer screamed.


	3. Chapter 3

_Doctor Allison Cameron once said, "It's easier to die than to watch someone die."_

Chapter 3

"Aaron! Aaron! Please speak to me! Aaron!"

He heard the cabin door slam, and the sound of a car driving off. They had left them alone.

Spencer lay still rigid with fear, crying for his friend. "Please, Aaron, please be alive!"

He pulled against the restraints, trying to see him, but he couldn't.

So he lay back on the bed, trying to think. He could do nothing unless he freed himself first. Spencer took a deep breath, gripped the rail that held his hands, locked his arms straight, and kicked at the bottom of the bed as hard as he could. The bed juddered, but it stayed firm.

Again he kicked. It wasn't easy. The restraints only gave him about six inches of movement. His feet were bare, and each kick cut into the soles of his feet. But until he was free, he couldn't help Aaron.

He gritted his teeth, and kicked again.

All he succeeded in doing was exhaust himself and cut his feet. He could feel the blood running down his feet.

Spencer let his head fall back on the bed.

"Aaron, please say something. I need to know you are alive!"

There was no sound from Aaron. Spencer lay very still. Maybe he would hear him breathing. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He thought maybe he could hear something, but he couldn't seem to isolate the sound.

He started to cry with frustration and rage at his impotence. Angrily he pulled at restraints again, again, nothing.

He thought he heard something. He lay still and quite and listened.

"Spence?"

So soft, he almost missed it.

"Aaron!" Spencer was so relieved to hear him, but Aaron sounded too weak. It frightened him.

"Aaron, I can't get to you. I thought they'd killed you! They shot you."

"Knee…..I think……can't feel leg…..bleeding out…"

Aaron was vaguely aware of his surroundings. He knew he was lying in blood, half congealed, settled around the lower part of his body. So much blood.

"Spence….I'm going to….die here…tell Haley….."

"Stop it, Aaron! You can tell her yourself!"

"Listen…to…me, Spence….tell her, I'm sorry….She's right…."

Spencer could hear Aaron was crying.

"We're going to get out of here. Aaron, don't give up."

It was all well and good saying it, but there was no chance of them escaping until the unsubs came back. Then it was up to him to grab the first opportunity he saw.

Aaron's life depended on it.

If it wasn't too late.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

It was hours before they came back. Spencer kept talking to Aaron, keeping him from lapsing into a coma. Aaron would respond with a sound, any way of letting Spence know he was still conscious, still alive.

It was almost a relief when they came back into the bedroom.

"Please! Let me check on Aaron."

He stepped over Aaron's body to stand next to Spencer.

"Yeah, ok." He smirked. "You can lay next to him while he dies. Then we can have our fun."

He leaned over and undid the restraints holding Spencer's hands, while another untied his legs. The second he was free he rolled off the bed and went to Aaron. He carefully lifted his head and cradled him, gently kissed him.

"Aaron, it's me." Spencer rocked to and fro, gently stroked Aarons face and hair, tried to clear blood from his eyes. He took Aaron's hand. "Aaron, squeeze my hand. Let me know you're still here."

Aaron's eye fluttered open. "I'm still here. Spence. I won't leave you." His once bright eyes, now dull, lifeless, closed slowly. Spencer put his arms around him. "Please don't go, Aaron."

"Ok enough!" He pulled Spencer away. "We've had a busy day. Now we want entertaining." He pointed to Aaron. "Get him on the bed!"

Spencer put one arm under Aaron's shoulders, the other holding his legs. He picked him up. Spencer was not strong; he didn't want to hurt him. Aaron groaned.weakly as he carefully laid him on the bed.

"I'm s-sorry, I d-didn't mean to hurt you."

"Now you!" Spencer turned to the man who spoke to find a gun in his face. "On the bed."

Spencer sat on the bed. One of the men pushed him down, turned him onto his front. Spencer reached out to Aaron and found his hand. The men didn't stop him.

Once again, Spencer was bound onto the bed.

"I'll go first." He indicated that the other two should leave. "Your turn next!"

He turned his attention to the pretty boy tied to the bed. He leaned over Spencer and nuzzled his hair.

"You smell like a girl, Goldilocks!" He kissed the back of Spencer's neck, licking, sucking, round to his ear, sniffing his hair, his hands groping, touching, moving, down to his waist.

"Hmm….so sweet…"

Spencer shuddered, tried to pull away. He held on to Aaron's hand tightly, not wanting to cry out. He knew Aaron was listening. He knew it would distress him if he thought he was suffering and couldn't help him. The thought of causing Aaron distress when he was so near death was worse than anything this man could do to him. He bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. So hard, he tasted blood.

Please, not again, not again.

Aaron knew what was happening. He was determined that Spence would not be violated again. He moved his head slightly; maybe he could reach the gun.

Spencer wasn't fighting, and Aaron knew why.

This would not happen again.

He felt the gun with his foot at the end of the bed. The pain of moving was tearing into him like a knife, but Spencer needed him. The man was gripping Spencer's waist, his fingers digging into his flesh. Spencer pressed his face into the mattress. Still he did not cry out.

_Don't be afraid, Spence. I promise it won't happen again._

Aaron hooked his toes onto the gun, and slowly bent his leg up. Then he had the gun in his hand.

Spencer cried out. The man's finger nails drew blood. Aaron pointed the gun at the man's head.

"Get off him!" barely more than an exhalation.

The man didn't turn away from Spencer. He moved his hands further down, laughing.

Aaron blew the man's brains out


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Aaron collapsed back on the bed, unconscious, the gun falling from his hand.

Spencer felt the man's warm blood and brain tissue on his back and in his hair as the man fell sideways onto the floor without uttering a sound.

Spencer didn't move, he just clutched onto Aaron's hand.

The other two men burst into the bedroom, stopping short when they saw their colleague lying on the floor with the side of his face blown away.

"Which of you did this?" one of them screamed. "Who did this? Who killed my brother?"

The other picked the gun off the floor. "Looks like it was this one." He leaned over Aaron and felt for a pulse in his neck. "Think he's dead."

Spencer turned his head fearfully to look at Aaron.

Surely not, surely he couldn't be dead!

The man pulled Spencer's head back by his hair.

"I'm going to kill you." Still holding Spencer's hair, he ordered, "Untie him. This pretty boy is going to wish he hadn't been born!""

As he was untied, the only thing Spencer could think was,

_Please don't let Aaron be dead. _

He couldn't bare the thought of Aaron's last act being to save him.

_Aaron, I'm simply not worth dying for_.

Spencer's hand was pulled away from Aaron's as he was dragged into the other room.

"You are going to regret killing him, Pretty Boy. We're going to kill you, but first, we are going to make you regret!"

Spencer struggled and fought against the two men holding him. He knew he didn't have a chance of getting away on his own, but he sure as hell wasn't going to make it easy for them. He kicked and twisted until they slammed him against the wall. The back of his head hit the wall, and for a moment, he was stunned. That was when they twisted his arms up his back and immobilised him.

"Now hold him still!"

With one hand holding his arms, the other his hair, Spencer couldn't move. He looked straight at the man in front of him.

"You can do as you please with me" he said quietly. "You have killed my friend, and now you are going to kill me. But let it be known, you will be caught. We will be missed, and you will be tracked down and you will face justice. I can guarantee that."

With a roar of anger, the man in front of him punched Spencer hard on the face. His head jerked back with the impact, and his nose and lip started bleeding. The inside of his cheek smashed against his teeth, and Spencer coughed as blood ran down his throat. He spat blood and looked directly at his assailant again.

"You won't g…."

He was not allowed to finish. The punch to the head was followed up with one to the diaphragm. Spencer couldn't breath. He squirmed in the grip that held him, struggling for breath. He opened his mouth, desperately trying to make his lungs work, his eyes wide.

The punch to the stomach ended his struggles. Spencer fainted, hung limply in the man's grip.

He was dropped onto the floor.

The gun was pointed to his head.

"I'll kill him now."

"Wait!" the other held his hand up. "Let's burn him."

Burn him alive.

He thought for a second, then nodded

"We'll get our stuff and get out of here. We'll burn the cabin with him in it."

The other smiled. "We'll listen to him screaming. He will pay for murdering my brother."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Spencer didn't move from where he had fallen. He was having trouble breathing still, but could not move into a position where he could bring relief to his painful lungs. He didn't want to move until they had left, or he would risk another beating. He was aware of what the men were saying, but he was also acutely aware that he had to get Aaron out of the cabin.

If he was alive still.

Spencer felt sick at the thought that Aaron may have died, while he, Spencer, had done nothing to help him. He didn't think he would be able to live with that..

At last he heard the door open and close.

With relief, Spencer turned onto his side, and tried to take deep breaths. It was agony, but soon he felt life retuning to hi body, and his body started working. When at last, he was able to stand, he staggered into the bedroom.

Aaron was still lying on his back on the bed, his arm hanging over the side where he had dropped the gun. For the first time, Spencer could see how badly he had been beaten, his arms and body cut and bruised. His face was bloodied and his hair was stiff with blood. His eyes were closed. His leg was a mess.

"Aaron!"

Spencer ran to his side, taking his hand. "Aaron, I've got to get you out of here."

Spencer had no idea how he was going to do it. But just then he heard the sound of accelerant catching fire, a soft booming sound, and the cabin suddenly became light. He knew the cabin would not stand for long. He ran and closed the bedroom door.

"Please, Aaron! Wake up! We have to leave!"

He pulled Aaron into a sitting position, legs over the side of the bed. Aaron groaned in pain as Spencer moved his shot leg. To Spencer, though, it was a good sound.

"That's it, Aaron, put your arms around my neck."

Spencer held him around the waist, and pulled him up against him. Aaron's head on Spencer's shoulder, his arms around his neck. Pulling a blanket off the bed, Spencer half carried, half dragged him to the window. He leaned him against the wall next to it, and opened the window.

He could hear the fire taking hold, the crackling of the wood burning, the smashing sounds as the windows shattered

"I'm so sorry, Aaron. This is going to hurt, but it's the only way out."

Spencer folded the blanket and laid it over the window sill. He turned Aaron round so that he was facing away from Spence, then he sat on the ledge, and swung his legs over. Then he pulled Aaron after him, with his hands under his arms.

They fell together onto the ground outside. Spencer pulled the blanket down and wrapped it around his friend.

"Ok, now we have to get away from the cabin."

He stood, and started to pull Aaron across the little clearing to the line of trees that surrounded the cabin. As he did so there was an explosion as the gas storage tanks blew, and Spencer and Aaron were thrown into the trees.

Aaron had been protected by the blanket, but Spencer's chest and legs were burnt by the flash.

He lay on his back in the leaves shaking and crying with shock, holding Aaron close to him. He could feel the heat where Gideon's cabin burned, the pain on his skin where it had been seared by the heat.

But he could also feel Aaron's heart beating against him.

Holding him tight, with his hand behind Aaron's head, he pulled him close.

And for a few minutes, experienced the joy of knowing that he was alive.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Spencer was afraid he would faint with shock. He knew he had to do something to ease the burns, and the only was he was going to do that was to cool his skin in water.

He had to stay awake; if he fainted, there would be no-one to help Aaron, who desperately needed to drink. He had lost a lot of blood, and Spencer was worried.

Carefully he laid Aaron down, making sure he was covered by the blanket, and stood shakily.

There was a lake close by. Spencer staggered to his feet, holding onto a tree for support. He couldn't cross close to the ruins of the cabin, as the heat hurt his skin. He looked back at Aaron.

"I'm going to get some water, Aaron." He spoke softly, "I will get you a drink."

Spencer began the walk to the lake.

Thorns and brambles cut into his bare feet as he carefully picked his way round the outside edge of the clearing. Sometimes a branch would flick back onto him, tearing at his burnt skin. He didn't try to prevent the tears that flowed down his cheeks. He felt dizzy and sick with the agony that racked his body.

He could see the lake shimmering through the trees in the moonlight. Silver shadows flickered across the trees as Spencer moved towards the water that would ease his pain. Every step shot new paroxysms through his body.

Trailing bloody footprints on the grass, Spencer at last knelt down at the water's edge. The relief was almost too much to bear as he allowed the water to flow across his broken skin. He cried out with the new pain.

Slowly he crawled into the lake. He drew his hair forwards, rinsing the dead UnSub's blood and brains out of his hair. Then turning on his back, he allowed the water to rinse his back.

He drank some water, as he knew that burns could easily cause dehydration. Then he looked round for something to carry water back to Aaron.

Gideon's fishing boat was moored close by. Spencer inched his way to the boat, trying his best to keep his body in the water.

_Please let there be something in the boat for me to carry water._ thought Spencer, reaching over the side.

The boat held several empty cans which had once contained Gideon's beer.

_Thank you, Gideon!_

Spencer rinsed the cans, and filled them with water from the lake.

He hoped that the water was not contaminated, and would not hurt Aaron.

Carefully he carried the cans of water back to Aaron. Again, his feet were cut and damaged by the undergrowth, but his one thought was to get back to Aaron.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Aaron was beginning to regain consciousness. He could feel the breeze across his face, the coolness of the night on his skin. He reached out to find Spencer.

He could smell the burning and he didn't know why. When he couldn't find Spencer, he panicked.

He tried to call out to him, but his voice wouldn't come.

Where was Spencer?

He coughed, and tried again to call out.

Spencer knelt down next to him, Aaron gripped his hand.

"I'm here, Aaron," he gently lifted Aaron's head to rest on his knee. "Drink this."

He held the can to his lips, and Aaron drank eagerly, clutching the can.

"I can smell fire, Spence. What happened?"

"They burned the cabin."  
Aaron looked at the burns on Spencer's cheat. He winced, thinking of the pain this man was experiencing, and yet had not even mentioned it.

Spencer didn't know what he was going to do. He had to get help for Aaron, but he knew he wouldn't be able to carry him. He wasn't even sure he could manage himself.

He was going to have to leave him.

He was going to have to walk on his own through the darkness to get help and leave Aaron behind.

"Aaron, I am going to go and get you help." He felt Aaron's hand tighten on his. "I don't want to leave you, but I am going to have to!"

Aaron looked straight at Spencer. "Go. You need help too." Aaron put his hand to Spencer's chest, touching so gently. "Go, Spence."

Spencer leaned over and kissed Aaron.

He had a terrible fear that he would never see him again. He could see that Aaron was crying, and his own tears fell.

He stood and looked down at his friend. Aaron's eyes were closed.

"Good bye." he whispered, and turned his back.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hotch hasn't called in today. It's so unlike him not to."

Morgan was worried. Hotch was meant to call daily to make sure that no urgent cases had come up.

Garcia said, "He's probably forgotten..." It was obvious from the way she aid it that she really didn't believe it.

"We could always drive up there and surprise them!" said Morgan. "I'll go home and get my fishing gear."

He had a feeling of foreboding as he loaded his stuff in the back of the car. Garcia turned to him.

"You're worried, aren't you?"

"Well, yes I am. Hotch does not forget. When he says he will phone, he does." He got in the car and started the engine.

……………………………………………………………………………………………...

Spencer walked away from the ruins of Gideon's cabin, away from Aaron.

He was not able to walk along the track; he didn't know if the Unsubs were going to return.

He moved through the woods on a path which he hoped was parallel to the track.

His mind was not working correctly; the pain of his burnt skin overshadowed everything else.

He carefully wrapped his arms around his body in an attempt to protect his skin from insects and the leaves and twigs that were being blown about by the rising breeze. Although the moon was shining, under the trees, it cast eerie malignant shadows that seemed to take on a life of their own. He felt afraid, not only because it was dark, but also unfamiliar sounds and sights making him nervous and anxious.

His mind was being assailed from everywhere, louder, terrifying, piercing screams of unknown birds froze him in fear.

As he walked, he tried not to think of anything, but unbidden statistics projected in his mind, how many people died of exposure each year after becoming lost in the wilderness and sounds played around him as if to disorientate him as he struggled to walk and light flickered through the trees and his eyes hurt, and his feet bled onto the ground as roots and fallen branches tore into him and brambles and dead bracken stretched out brittle fingers at the burns on his legs and all he could feel was the agony of destroyed skin on his legs and chest.

He collapsed onto his knees, and crawled desperately through the undergrowth, crying out as his blistered skin was caught by the dead bracken, sobbing and weeping; he wrapped his hands around his head.

"I am so sorry Aaron. I can't go on any more." He hugged himself in a lonely attempt at finding some comfort.

"Please forgive me Aaron. I can't do it."

He lay down on his side and curled up, his body racked with helpless regret, he surrendered to hopeless tears.


	6. Chapter 6

_Medicgirl once said "There are so few truly GOOD people in the world, when you find one you have a moral obligation to protect them."_

Chapter 6

Morgan and Garcia stood by the car and looked in disbelief at the burnt ruins in front of them. Neither said anything, each rendered speechless, struggling to make sense of what they were seeing..

Then Morgan ran forwards and started to pick through the wreckage. It took a moment for Garcia to gain control of her muscles, then she followed Morgan.

"Try not to disturb the scene too much, Baby Girl." said Morgan. "It could be crime scene."

Carefully they searched the scene, Both were terrified of what they would find. Suddenly Morgan froze. Garcia stood up and looked across at him.

"What is it?"

"I've found a body." He spoke quietly, as if his voicing the words made it more real. Garcia had her hand over her mouth. "Who…"

"Can't tell, Princess. But he didn't die in the fire. He's been shot."

"Reid?" Afraid to ask….afraid of the answer

He walked over to her and put his arm around her.

"Don't go over there, Sweetheart."

"If there's just one body, there is …."

"We must get a unit out here." said Morgan. He took out his mobile and made a call.

Garcia walked round the smoking ruin while Morgan spoke on the phone. Parting the branches of the trees as she went, looking for any clue as to what might have happened.

"Morgan!" she suddenly cried out. "It's Hotch!"

Morgan ran over to where Garcia was pushing through the trees.

Underneath the trees wrapped in a blanket, Hotch was lying very still. Morgan knelt beside him. He felt for a neck pulse. "He's alive, but unconscious."

He gently pulled back the blanket. "GSW to the knee and he's been beaten."

Morgan looked up at Garcia. "Something really bad has happened here." He glanced back at the ruined cabin. "We need to find out who that is."

Both were thinking the same thing.

Is it Reid?

Morgan was on the mobile again.

Garcia went to the car and got some water. She took it to Hotch, and wetted his dry cracked lips, softly speaking to him, telling him he was going to be safe now. She wetted a cloth and cleared some of the blood from his eyes and nose.

Hotch was listening to Garcia. She was here with him. He had to ask her. He needed to know if Spencer was ok. He tried to move his hand, tried to find hers.

Garcia saw his hand move. She clasped it in hers.

"It's over now, Sir. We've got you now. The ambulance is coming. You're going to be ok."

Aaron was trying to speak. His lips were forming a word, but no sound.

Garcia put her ear close to Aaron's mouth.

"Spencer…."

So quiet, trembling, afraid.

Garcia felt dread greater than she had ever felt. A terrible fear of knowing.

She could hear the Air Ambulance approaching.

As if in a dream, the paramedics ran through the clearing. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. They knelt down next to him, checked vitals, inserted an IV line, spoke to him, explaining, comforting, gently moving him.

Garcia watched and waited.

As the paramedics loaded him into the helicopter, Morgan gave them JJ and Emily's mobile number.

"These are the people who will need to be told about this. Please would you let them know."

The paramedic took the note, assuring Morgan that they would make the call.

Garcia and Morgan watched the helicopter take off and rise up into the midmorning sky.

………………………………...

Arlan looked down at the man lying in the bracken.

"You reckon he's from the fire?"

"Likely." answered Tyrone. "Looks like he's burnt."

"He's cut up pretty bad."

Arlan stooped down to check the man's pockets. "Nothing."

"The cabin was owned by a Fed. This kid might be a Fed….."

"You think so? Don't he look kinda young?"

"Guess so, but he could be valuable anyway, Fed or not, he's known to them. Could be the Fed's son."

"You think he'd pay?"

Tyrone showed his rotten teeth in what passed as a smile in his limited world..

"Could be. Let's get him back."

………………………………...

Spencer couldn't move. He felt that he had been waiting forever to die, and it hadn't come. His thoughts were of Aaron and the team and working. He was confused, unsure why he was there, and where the others were.

He could remember….

Hands touching him.

Gunshot.

A fire.

A blanket.

Aaron.

He was burned , but the pain he was in was all-embracing, like an evil shroud which enveloped his body; non-specific agony that was indescribable.

He hugged his arms tightly around himself, keeping himself separate from the world surrounding him.

Safe.

Waiting.

The rough hands pulled his arms away from his body. He cried out as he felt himself lifted into the air. The sudden movement made him sick. He vomited and choked as he as thrown over someone's back and carried.

He was too weak to protest or speak. Pain shot through him, as blood seeped from broken damaged skin. He cried as burnt skin contacted with the roughness of fabric, and tore into blisters, blood and fluid oozing from his chest and legs.

He sobbed weakly, tears running from his eyes and wetting his bloody hair.

………………………………...

Branches snagged at his back and face as he was carried through the woods. He held his hands up to his face to protect his eyes, but whoever was carrying him was not concerned about any more hurt that was being inflicted on him.

He couldn't think properly, or understand what was happening to him. The continuous rhythm of the carrier waking, the scraping of his raw skin, the flow of agonised tears, fear and confusion and bewilderment.

He felt as if he would faint, blood rushing to his head, dizziness, black feathery threads danced before his eyes.

Spencer passed out.

………………………………...

He woke suddenly as he was deposited on a wooden bench. Lying face up, he looked into the eyes of the man who had been carrying him. He tried to speak, his dry thirsty lips unable to form words.

He closed his eyes, waited for whatever was going to happen. He was helpless in his weakness, could not protest or resist.

"Drink this." said a voice. He felt cool liquid dripped onto his parched lips He opened his lips and allowed the sweet liquid to flow into his mouth. He licked droplets of water from his lips.

"Who are you?" He managed to speak, but the person giving him water took no notice. He took the water away and returned with a length of wire.

Without speaking, he twisted the wire around his ankles, and passed it under the bench so that Spencer's feet were restrained. Then he twisted wire around his wrists, and pulled them under the bench.

When he had finished, he looked down at Spencer.

"Open your eyes!"

Spencer's eyes flickered open.

"We are not planning on hurting you. So don't struggle." the man said. "We think someone might be prepared to pay to have you back, so we don't want you damaged. Just do not move, and the wire will not cut you. If you try to escape, though, we will kill you."

He held up in front of Spencer's face a hunting knife. "I have gutted deer with this knife. I will have no hesitation in doing the same to you, should you prove not to be worth anything."

Spencer turned his face away.

He had left Aaron to die

In his own mind, he had already proved himself to be worthless.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Morgan wanted to wait for the CSI's to arrive. He didn't want to leave the scene, because if that was Reid that was lying in the ashes, he couldn't leave him. He went back to the car, sat behind the wheel and rested his head on it. Tears stung his eyes as the tried to figure out what had happened.

It couldn't be Reid.

Garcia couldn't just sit. She paced the clearing, checking under the trees, examining the ground, anything to stop her thinking about the body in the ruins of Gideon's cabin. She went back to where Aaron had been. She carefully looked at where he had been lying.

"Hey, Derek!" she called.

Morgan blinked back his tears and got out of the car. He went and stood next to her.

She didn't say anything, just shone her torch. Morgan crawled under the tree to take a better look at what she had found.

The ground behind where Aaron had been was blood spattered

He looked up at her.

"Someone has been here. These are footprints."

"Reid? Could it have been Reid?"

Morgan didn't want to build up any hopes, but he was finding it difficult not to. He took Garcia by the hand and together they began to follow the trail of bloody footprints.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Spencer was lying very still on his back. He knew that the burns were becoming infected. They were so painful, but they were oozing and sticky.

If these two were holding him for ransom, he thought, they'd better hurry, or he would be dead from septicaemia.

One of the men came and stood by him.

"I've got some stuff for your burns."

He was holding a bowl of something that Spencer could smell.

"Please, I think my skin is infected. I need antibiotics."

"This works better. It's grease" he said. He dug some of the foul smelling stuff with a wooden spatula.

Spencer looked wide eyed in horror. "No! Please don't put that on."

He was ignored, and the man started to smear the grease onto Spencer's chest.

Spencer's skin stung and he tried to pull away, but the wires dug into his wrists as he attempted to turn his body. He screamed and cried, but the man didn't stop.

At last he put the bowl down.

Spencer was crying and gasping in pain as the grease ran down his sides onto the bench.

"Oh just be quiet!" the man yelled, smacking Spencer on the face with the spatula. "It's to get you better, you moron!"

He picked up some sheeting from the floor; Spencer hoped that it was clean. Not that it really mattered now.

The man folded the sheet into a thick square, and taped it to Spencer's chest. Then he did the same to his legs.

He left Spencer crying in agony, unable to comfort himself, unable to wrap his arms around himself. Feeling wretched and hopeless.

Aaron…

Another face. "Drink this."

"What is it?" There was no answer. Burning liquid was poured into his mouth. As soon as he realised what it was he turned his head away.

"No! I don't want it!"

"Drink. It will ease the pain."

He pulled Spencer's hair, forcing his head back. Spencer tried to keep his mouth closed, but the man forced it open, and poured the liquid down his throat. Spencer coughed and gagged, not wanting to swallow but unable to do anything else. When the bottle was about half empty, the man stepped back.

Spencer was choking and coughing still as he watched the man take a drink out of the bottle and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.

"The rest is yours." He said, and once again forced Spencer to drink from the bottle until it was empty.

Spencer's vision was blurred, and he couldn't speak. He turned his head to the side and vomited violently.

"I hope they pay up soon." said Arlan. "You're disgusting."

Spencer felt as if he was floating, the pain of the burns dulled by the alcohol. His thinking slow and sluggish. He lay still on the bench, grease, alcohol and filth congealing around his body and in his hair.

He moaned and sighed and whimpered and hoped………..

No

There was no hope. The man was right.

He was disgusting.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The trail that they were following did not take them far into the woods. Whoever it was had not been walking in a straight line, meandering through the trees, and had almost doubled back on himself. The footprints had become bloodier, other smears of blood had been found at higher levels. Morgan was very worried. By this time he was convinced that it was Reid that they were following. Why was there so much blood? He squeezed Garcia's hand tightly. He wished she wasn't here with him, but at the same time, he was glad he wasn't alone.

"It stops here." said Morgan, looking down at the crushed and bloody bracken. "And he's not here!"

"But he must be." said Garcia. "Where could he go?"

Morgan looked around. "There are no drag marks." he said, "But someone has walked away from here. He could have been carried."

The trail was harder to follow now. The bloody footprints were gone, but there were still bloody smudges on the leaves.

This time the trail was in a straight line. "Whoever carried him away knew where they were taking him." said Morgan.

"So you think it was Reid?" Garcia said.

Morgan nodded. "It seems likely. "Lets hope whoever took him did it to help him."

……………………………………………………………………………………………...

Spencer cried quietly. He did not want to be heard. This hell in which he was floating was his own. It was private and he was not able to share it.

He could not see properly. He could not speak. But he could cry. His tears ran into his hair as he wept for Aaron.

_I'm so sorry, Aaron. I am so sorry I left you to die alone. Please forgive me._

Then even these words were lost to him as the sobs shook his body, and the wire cut into his wrists and ankles, and he lost control of himself, and he cried with grief for his lost friend and his own inadequacy and failure.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Where you going, Tyrone?" Arlan looked as his friend took his jacket off the hook by the door. "Don't leave me here with that freak. I don't want him dying on me."

"Need to check the traps, Arl. If you don't like it, don't go near him. If he dies, he dies. Meat's not hard to dispose of. We got the pigs."

"When we gonna get the money, Ty?" whinged Arlan. "You said it would be easy."

"Ahh stop moaning, will you?" Tyrone snapped angrily. "I sent the letter. I only need to tell them where the drop is to be."

Tyrone held the front of the jacket together, and left the shack. Arlan watched him go, then went over to the door to the store room where their prisoner was lying still on the bench.

The smell in the store room was awful, even Arlan held his hand to his face. He could smell the grease, but there was an underlying odor of decay. The Fed was not moving, but was sighing and murmuring in his sleep. Arlan went up close to him and watched him. His face was tear stained, his lips dry and encrusted. He had bruises and cuts and dried blood on his lips and around his nose Arlan could see that his breathing was very shallow. He looked to Arlan as if he was about to die.

He went to get some water.

He poured some onto his lips, and the Fed started to lick at the moisture. Arlan gave him a little more. The Fed opened his eyes slightly and tried to speak.

" head…dying….please help…"

Arlan started to pace. A corpse wasn't worth anything apart from the intrinsic food value. Where was Ty? How could he be so calm? Arlan just wanted this over with.

The Fed started crying out. Arlan approached him again and smacked his face.

"Shut up! I don't want to listen to you!" He looked closely at the Fed, and smiled nastily. "But you sure gotta pretty mouth don't you?" Arlan ran his fingers over Spencer's lips and through his dirty hair. He started to bend down to the Fed's face when he heard the door open and close. Ty was back. Arlan stood straight at once. Ty didn't like perverts.

"Hey, Ty." He called, still slightly shaky from how close he'd been to getting caught. "Don't think he's gonna last long. Can't we just dump him now?"

"If he's alive, we hang on to him." Tyrone said. "He's worth money."

"What about the traps? We get anything?" Arlan headed for the kitchen.

"Couple of rabbits, that's all. Others are reset."

Arlan picked up his knife and a rabbit and went to the sink.

……………………………………………………………………………………………...

Morgan and Garcia followed the trail through the woods. It was a well used trail, the undergrowth trodden down into a narrow path. Every few feet there would be evidence of blood on the leaves. They walked in single file, Morgan taking the lead. When the path widened, Garcia walked beside him, holding his hand.

Suddenly Morgan screamed and fell to the ground. Garcia was at his side in an instant. Morgan was clutching at his leg.

"It's a trap!" he gasped. "Got my foot, dammit!" Morgan fell backwards into the bracken, moaning in agony.

Garcia cleared away the leaves and debris from around Morgan's ankle. There was an evil looking gin trap sprung onto his leg just above his foot, sharp rusty teeth cutting slowly through his trousers and into his flesh. Garcia was horrified. She tried to pull the jaws apart, but they would not move.

"I can't move them!" Her hands were shaking. "What do I do? Derek, tell me what to do!" She felt herself get panicky.

The trap was prevented from closing completely because Morgan's trousers were between the jaws and his skin. But slowly the teeth were cutting through and the jaws were closing.

Morgan sat up and tried to prise open the jaws.

"Can't do it, Baby Girl."

He lay back down. "Go find Reid. Be careful. When you find him, don't put yourself in danger. Just come back." He took out his mobile. "I'll call for back up!"

Garcia was torn. Stay with Morgan, or follow the trail. She hesitated.

"I'll be ok. Find Reid."

She backed away from Morgan, still unsure. Morgan looked her in the eyes.

"Go."

She turned from him, and continued along the trail, running.

She was not a field agent. But she had people she loved relying on her.

She would not let them down.

……………………………………………………………………………………………...

Spencer's head hurt. Really hurt.

He'd had a hang over before, but this was new.

A moonshine hangover, together with the pain from the suppurating burns.

He wanted to die.

He had vomited until there was nothing left inside to come out.

Then he had vomited nothing. Dry painful heaving, throat stripped of skin, mouth on fire, tasting foul. He wanted to scream and cry but it hurt too much. He felt poisons run through his body with each erratic heart beat. He needed water and food. He needed comfort.

He needed to die.

A sudden thought of being found like this made him shudder. Lying here in his own blood and vomit in his hair and smelling like something rotten.

No-one had been in for a while now.

He wouldn't see Aaron again.

Except in his nightmares of self loathing.

He wanted to pray.

But how could he pray to an entity whose existence he had denied his whole life.

So he directed his prayer to the ether.

_Please let me die_...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Garcia crouched behind the trees and watched the shack. It seemed that the trail ended here. If Reid was still alive, then he would be in there. The windows she could see were covered with some kind of curtain, but she could see light escaping from one window at the front.

Silently, she crept around to the back of the shack. Here the windows were not screened by drapes. She crossed to one of them, and looked in. The glass was filthy; she rubbed a clear patch, and, shielding her eyes, peered in.

The room was empty. Carefully, she picked her way through the rubbish to the next window.

Reid! She could see him, but what she saw made her feel sick.

She had to get him out of there.

Morgan had said to go straight back to him, but how could she leave her Reid in there.

He needed her.

She tried the window. It slid up a few inches, then stopped.. She could not force it, she did not want to alert whoever was in the shack.

She had a choice.

Either wait until they left, then go in……which could be hours, and could be too late for Reid.

Or make them come out.

She sat and thought for a moment. She had to make sure everyone came out, but she didn't know how many were in there.

She looked around for ideas, and saw the truck.

Now if she could just……….

Yes, that ought to do it.

Very, very cautiously, shaking with fear, she crept over to the flatbed. The windows were open, and the doors unlocked. She reached up and opened the door furthest from the shack and crawled in. She realised that she had been holding her breath, and she felt light headed.

That could either be lack of oxygen, or simply fear!

She lay on the floor of the truck for a few moments to catch her breath. She was lying in a pile of greasy paper towels and rags on the floor of the truck.

And a packet of cigarettes, and a lighter.

She grabbed a handful of rags and the lighter, and slid back out of the truck. Pushing the door to, she crawled along the side until she found the fuel cap.

Perfect.

She opened the cap and stuffed the rags into the fuel tank, leaving some hanging over the edge. It had to give her time to get back into the trees.

She flicked the lighter.

Nothing!

Again!

Nothing!

She let her hands fall to her sides and breathed slowly, trying not to hyperventilate. She had never had a panic attack, and she hoped this was not one. She needed to keep her head.

She flicked the lighter again.

A flame.

She lit the rag, and ran, not worrying about silence.

She crouched down behind the trees and watched as the truck exploded in a mass of flames and heat.

Two men ran out of the shack.

Now was her chance.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The sound of the explosion woke Spencer. He could see through half closed eyelids the flickering of fire.

Maybe the shack was on fire.

He didn't care.

He closed his eyes again.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Garcia ran to the door of the shack. The two men she had seen were on the other side of the burning truck arguing over what to do.

Quickly she entered, hoping that there were only two of them. She had no weapons, nothing to protect herself. The room looked clear.

She ran to the back. There were two doors, she took the second one. She pulled it open and closed it behind her. Breathing heavily, she leaned on the door. The smell made her gag.

Holding the collar of her coat over her mouth and nose, she let her eyes get used to the darkness in the room.

Over by the wall was the bench she had seen through the window, with Reid wired to it.

"Reid!" she whispered. "Can you hear me?" She shook him gently. "Wake up, Reid. I'm going to get you out of here."  
Spencer thought he could hear someone talking to him.

Hallucinations.

He turned towards the voice. He tried to speak, but only managed a whimper.

"I am going to undo these wires." she said. She lay on the floor and struggled with the twisted wire that held his hands together.

"I can't do it, Spence."

She looked around the room for something to cut the wire with. On one of the storage boxes was a pair of pliers. She brought them over to the bench.

"Spence, how many men are there?"

He didn't move, didn't look at her.

Then she heard the shack door open.

They were coming back!

She looked in one of the boxes. It contained a trap like the one Morgan was caught in. She took it out of the box and stood behind the door. She could hear the conversation in the next room.

"How the hell did that happen?"

"Don't ask me. Since when have I been psychic? I didn't want to do this anyway!"

"Oh stop your sniveling! At least you don't have to walk! Now I have got to walk to the town!"

"You gonna leave me here again?"

The door slammed.

Only one in the shack now.

She held her breath and waited.

The door opened.

The man went up to Reid.

"Ok, Fed, just you and me now."

To Garcia's horror, he sat astride Reid's injured chest, leaned forward and started to kiss him.

It was more than she could take.

"Don't you touch him, you creep!"

With a yell she ran forward and swung the trap at the man's head. The man yelped and fell to the floor. He looked at her with furious eyes.

"Who the devil are you?" He was on his feet, but he had his hand against his head where she had hit him and he was swaying. He staggered towards her.

She swung the trap again. This time he stayed down.

She looked at him on the floor.

Not normally a violent person, in fact, she hated violence. But when she saw what this man had done to her Spencer, she wanted to keep hitting him.

With an enraged cry, she threw the trap to one side in anger, and knelt beside Spence.

"Oh Babe. What have they done to you?"

She knew she was crying for him.

She also knew that whether he lived or died was probably in her hands.

She blinked away the tears and worked at the bonds on Spencer's wrists with the pliers she had found.

She talked to him while she struggled with the bonds. She tried to reassure him, to tell him that he was going to be ok.

But Reid had turned away from her.

He did not want her to see him.

He felt shame and debasement.

He had left Aaron to die.

If she knew that, she wouldn't be here.

At last Reid's wrists fell apart. She started to work on those around his ankles.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Morgan had tried to call for backup, but the service was intermittent, and he didn't think he had got through. The CSI's were only a couple of miles away, and he was frustrated that he couldn't call them for help.

Morgan had felt for the chain that held the trap in place. It was attached top a spike that had been hammered into the ground. He dug round the top of the spike with a stone. He pulled on it, trying to loosen it. He pushed it backwards and forwards, then at last he pulled it out of the ground.

The effort drained him. He fell back down onto the bracken. The teeth were now cutting into his leg deeply, blood was pouring down onto his foot.

He sat up and used the spike to lever open the jaws of the trap.

The pain was making him sick. The teeth were almost down to the bone. If it hadn't been that the jaws caught his trousers, it would have probably taken his foot off.

He tried to stop shaking as the jaws slowly opened. Every little bit they moved pulled at broken flesh, and his eyes watered with the pain. Gritting his teeth, he pulled on the spike. The teeth cleared his skin, and he painfully moved his foot out of the jaws.

As soon as his foot was clear, he let go of the spike. The trap sprung closed again, the teeth fitting together around the spike.

Morgan once again lay back in the bracken, breathing heavily, he felt faint and sick. But Garcia had not returned, and he was worried about her.

If she has done anything stupid………

He took off his jacket, and ripped it into strips. He packed the wound on either side of his leg, to try and stop the bleeding. He wound the strips around his ankle and under his foot, and bound it tightly.

He then summoned all his strength and stood up. He looked about him for a branch he could use as a crutch, and leaning on the branch, he followed the path that Garcia had taken.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The wire came apart at last, and Spencer's ankles were no longer restrained. He cried out as his legs, which had been bound together under the bench, swung apart and hung either side of the bench.

Garcia stood up and looked at him. His eyes were closed, but she could see that he was crying.

She felt moved inside to see him in such a wretched state.

"Spence, we're going to go now."

She lifted his arms and crossed them over his chest. Then she placed his legs on the bench. She took off her coat and laid it over him.

"I am going to try and lift you, Spence."

She rolled him towards her and slipped her coat under him. Then she did the same on the other side.

Carefully she slid her arms under him and lifted.

She was shocked at how light he was. She had been concerned that she would not be able to carry him, but it was going to be easy.

His head fell back, his eyes were still closed. He had not made a sound as she pulled him close to her.

"Oh Spence, Babe. Please be ok."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Morgan reached the shack, and saw the still burning truck.

"Garcia!" he said under his breath, "I told you……."

Then he saw her. She was holding something in her arms, carrying it as if it was a precious and fragile treasure.

"I've got him." she said, her voice broken with sobs. "I don't know if I was too late though."

Morgan limped to the door. "Was there anyone in?"  
"There was," she said. "Only I hit him. I think he's going to be asleep for a while." She tried to smile, but she couldn't. "Your leg! What about your leg?"

"I'm ok."

Morgan sat down against the wall of the shack. Garcia laid Reid across Morgan's lap, and sat beside him. She put her arm around him.

"Are we too late?" she asked. "Is Reid going to be ok?"

Morgan looked down at the boy on his lap. His skin was white, grey around the eyes. His lips were dry and coated. He was bruised and battered, and he was burning hot. He had a bandage of sorts taped to his chest, and that was soaked through.

Morgan stroked Spencer's hair from his eyes with one hand, dialed his mobile with the other.

"I don't know, Baby Girl. I really don't know."


	10. Chapter 10

_Friedrich Nietzsche said, "What else is love but understanding and rejoicing in the fact that another person lives, acts, and experiences otherwise than we do…?"_

Chapter 10

It took thirty minutes for the emergency services to arrive.

The PD took the man in the shack away, to be checked over by a police doctor.

The man whose name was Arlan Gray had a record for petty crime, but this was the first time he had been involved with anything this serious. Until now.

They simply waited for the other man to return. When he saw the police, he tried to make a run for it, but didn't get far.

Tyrone Collins was wanted by the police for attempted murder, and now had kidnapping to add to his sheet.

Garcia spent the time holding Spence and talking to him, trying to get a response. Sometimes he would seem to look at her through tear filled eyes, but she could not be sure he was actually focusing on her.

She kept her coat around him, to protect him, to keep him safe, to give him comfort. She rocked him, not as a deliberate action, but an automatic response to his suffering. She smoothed his hair, and talked to him.

Morgan sat by her, holding her hand. His foot had no feeling in it. It didn't even hurt now. He was pretty sure he was going to lose it.

But then he'd see Spence, and wonder if losing a foot was so bad after all.

How would Reid get through this time? He suddenly realised that should Aaron not be able to stand by Reid and get him through, then he, Morgan, would have to step up to the plate.

He had always looked upon Reid as a little brother. Now he was going to have to play the role of big brother. He wasn't sure that he would be good enough.

He looked at the way Garcia was holding Spence in her arms.

There was where his strength was going to come from.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Another ambulance ride, another emergency room, another rescus.

Except this time he was on the trolley as well.

They told Morgan he was lucky to still have his foot. If he hadn't got out of the trap when he did, the prognosis would have been much worse. But then walking half a mile after did not help.

Spencer was another matter.

He had severe septicaemia, caused by the grease that had been applied to his burns. The skin was infected and blackened in places. He was going to need extensive skin grafts on his chest and legs.

The grease was cleaned off, and the burns treated, and massive doses of antibiotics were given. He was wrapped in plastic non stick bandages.

The burns would likely scar, but the deeper scarring was inside.

When he came round after theatre, Garcia was there at his side. His eyes flickered open, and she took his hand.

"Welcome back, Spence." She smiled hugely at him. "We thought we'd lost you ….. again!"

Spencer turned away. "Don't stay with me, Garcia. I don't deserve it."

She stood up and took his face in her hands. She turned his face towards her. He was crying. He tried to pull away, but she held him firmly.

"I will not be leaving you, Sweet Cheeks. I'm here for the duration."

"I left Aaron." he sobbed. "He's by the cabin. I couldn't help him." Spencer bit down on his bottom lip, and cried. "Please go and get him." He turned his eyes away from hers. "I'm so sorry, Aaron….."

"Spencer! Aaron's ok!" Garcia felt tears of empathy well up and fall from her eyes. "We found him."

She leaned over him and stroked his pale skin. "Aaron's upstairs."

"No, I left him to die. I left him."

"Listen to me, Babes. Aaron is here in the hospital. He didn't die."

"He's ok?" Spencer couldn't believe it. "I thought….."

She smiled at him.

He looked so fragile and delicate lying there on the bed. His pale skin seemed to shimmer in the harsh hospital lights. She touched his soft hair.

She couldn't help it.

She kissed him.

And Spencer kissed her back.

She tasted salty tears on his lips. She held his face in her hands and kissed him deeply.

_I am here for you, Sweet Cheeks…………_

Spencer put his arms around her and held her close.

Safe

Always.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

**END**

A/N This is a rounding off chapter. Sorry it's a short one. There will be a sequel, haven't chosen a title yet though.


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